


Help the Owl

by Sky_Astor



Series: Whouffaldi One Shots [9]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Delirium, Drugged Twelve, F/M, Friendship/Love, Humor, taking care, whouffaldi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-06
Updated: 2015-09-06
Packaged: 2018-04-19 10:39:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4743245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sky_Astor/pseuds/Sky_Astor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Twelve visits Clara and is completely delirious... She tries to help him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Help the Owl

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Whouffaldi Fanfiction Countdown (Week 5 – till 12th September)
> 
> Prompt: “No more. You’re not well”  
> The fic doesn’t have to include this line

Clara was sitting in her kitchen, doing her marking when she heard the sound of the TARDIS. She got up and went to her living room to see the ship materialise.

The Doctor fell out of the door and his body hit the floor.

“Hey, Clara!” he called cheerfully.

“Doctor! What are you doing?! Be careful,” she called back and went over to him, thinking he just hurried to her, all excited by something that he wanted to tell her right away.

“I'm fine, Clara, please!” he got up and Clara supported him although there was no need for it. He seemed to be fine.

“You really should change the gravity settings here, Clara,” he stated as his eyes frantically flickered across the room.

 _Seemed_.

He turned around a few times to examine the room thoroughly - as if he was there for the first time.

“Wait! Doctor, there's a dart in your neck!” she expelled.

The Doctor wasn't listening, nor did he notice when she quickly pulled the small object out.

He gasped in horror and scuttled over to her shelf, leaving her confused and without an idea what he meant.

His knees buckled on his way until he tripped over his own feet and fell again.

This time she remained in place, watched him as he got up again. There was no point in asking him about the dart now because he wasn't in the state to give her a reasonable answer.

“What have you done with the owl?” he asked as he took a small ceramic statue in his hands.

This would be a long evening.

She approached him slowly.

“Doctor, please, you need to calm down. It's just a statue,” she spoke softly.

His sad eyes looked at her, pupils dilated.

“Yes, it is. But you haven't done it, have you? Have you, Clara?”

“No, I haven't, it-”

He interrupted her, “So you've found it and waited for me, so I can save it.”

“Doctor, please-”

“Of course, I will. I can try, Clara...” he said and hurried back to the blue box.

Clara was worried and determined to care of him until the effect of the dart passed. But when would that be? In twenty minutes? Five hours? She didn't even know if the effects would get worse... Anything could happen.

She sighed and followed the staggering Time Lord into to the time machine.

He held the ceramic owl in his arms like a baby. Being completely delirious, he even forgot to open the door and crashed into it.

“Doctor, be careful, please,” Clara said, pitying him.

“Yeah, I am, don’t worry… This door just came out of nowhere!”

On his way to the console, his left leg gave up under him and he fell on his knee but stood up in a flash again.

“We should go on an adventure, Clara!” he shouted as he put the statue on the ground and his eyes flew over the colourful button and levers.

“That's a bad idea right now, Doctor,” Clara replied, not sure what to do what to do.

His moods switched quickly. Two minutes ago he was ready to cry about a ceramic owl and now he wanted to travel.

In this state, he was only ready to travel to his bed the furthest.

“Doctor, please, you need to lie down,” she repeated and took his hand.

“Clara, Clara, Clara, Clara...” he grinned like an idiot.

Then he broke into a run up the stairs and to the hall.

“Doctor, come back!” she called and ran after him, but it was no good – he was too fast. She’d lost him in the corridors. How was she supposed to find him now? The impossible girl entered the halls – there were no doors at all, which she found strange. She knew the TARDIS was in on this, but at first, she didn’t know what to think of it.

In fact, the TARDIS didn't show her any because the Doctor hadn't settled in a room yet… This way she could prevent Clara from entering rooms unnecessarily and save her time.

After a few moments, the sharp sound of guitar filled the halls… A familiar tune... Joined shortly by the Doctor's voice.

 

_I am an antichrist_

_I am an anarchist_

 

The Sex Pistols. Clara took the first left, found a door and went in at once. She found herself in her own room that the TARDIS had made for her according to her wishes.

The Doctor was jumping on her bed, his fingers running over the strings.

 

_Don't know what I want_

_But I know how to get it_

_I wanna destroy_

_The passerby_

_'Cause I,_

_I wanna be_

_Anarchyyy_

 

“Doctor! Stop it and get down, please!” Clara shouted, so he could hear her over the loud guitar riff.

“Don't you like this one, Clara?” he asked and kept on playing the tune.

“I can play something else if you want. How about _Another Girl, Another Planet_? Or _The Only One_?”

She went up to him and stopped him from playing. His forehead was covered with sweat that glistened in the light.

“Maybe later, alright?” she asked him with a smile.

“Right,” he whispered, a bit confused.

“Will you sit down for me?”

He nodded, put the guitar on the ground did as she wished.

“I'll get you some water... Wait here, okay?” she squeezed his hand lightly.

“Okay,” he whispered, looking down at their hands.

Clara scuttled back to her flat to get a bottle of water and a towel. The mood changes worried her. What if he suddenly turned angry? Would he hurt her? She was sure he had no idea what he was doing, so it could very well happen. For now, he was at least calm and listened to her...

When she came back, the room was empty - or so she thought. He was sitting right next to the door and she discovered him only when she closed it.

Knees at chest, eating yoghurt, eyes fixed on her.

“Where did you get - oh, never mind,” she said.

“Uhm, so... How are you feeling?” came her question as she knelt down next to him.

“My hearts hurt. They beat too fast... too hard. Why do they do that?”

She saw how his hand was shaking when he brought the spoon to his lips.

“Are you sleepy? Tired?”

“Only now.”

“Oh, well, maybe if you rest, you will feel better,” she whispered and dried the sweat on his forehead with her towel.

“But I want to play the guitar and sing for you,” he said with puppy eyes.

“Not now. You're not well. Even though you may not feel it right now... You can play when you're okay again,” she assured him.

“Okay,” he agreed as he licked the remaining yoghurt off the spoon.

He got up by himself and with a vertigo, he walked over to Clara's bed. She took his coat and waistcoat off and threw it over the chair. His shoes were next - although it didn't have a point for the bed because he'd been jumping on it in them before... It was just for his comfort now. The Doctor lied down, his eyelids getting heavier as Clara unbuttoned the first two buttons of his white shirt.

“Sleep. I hope you get better quickly,” she whispered as she ran her fingers through his grey curls.

He'd been already asleep.

xxxxxx

Headache. Strong.

He opened his eyes and found Clara sitting at the edge of the bed, smiling at him.

“Hello, Mr. Rotten,” she giggled, hoping he was okay.

“Clara? Why - No,” he closed his eyes and shook his head lightly.

“You remember?” she asked, quite surprised.

“Everything.”

He opened his eyes again and looked at her.

“I thought I'd escaped from them and their silly blowguns and darts... Don't tell anyone - that would be embarrassing,” he said as he sat up next to her.

She giggled.

“So, you're okay.”

“Yes - except for the terrible headache,” he murmured.

“Look, Clara - I'm sorry. Really.”

“It's alright. I’m just glad you’re fine,” she took his hand in both of hers and squeezed it.

“You did nothing that bad... The worst thing was just that I didn't know if your life was in danger or not.”

“I'm sorry for that too,” he smiled.

“Since you didn't get drugged on purpose, you're forgiven, Doctor,” she chuckled.

“Here's a bottle of water and something for your headache,” she said and pointed at the night stand.

“Thank you, Clara,” he swallowed the pill together with half of the bottle. He was so thirsty that he could drink a whole swimming pool.

“And there's your friend on the other night stand behind you,” she grinned.

He turned around and saw the ceramic owl from Clara's flat.

“Oh, yes. A+ teasing, Miss Oswald,” he said and she giggled.

“You can save it now - by returning it on my shelf.”

“Yeah, I will, don't worry. I just hope you won’t rub my nose it every time you feel like it,” he smiled at her.

“Oh, I will. For a while,” she teased him some more.

“Clara!”

“Nah, don’t worry… Definitely not in public,” she caressed his hand with her thumb.

The Doctor smiled and finished the bottle.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writting it!


End file.
